When I die, if the word 'thong' appears in the first or second sentence of my obituary, I've screwed up.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I don't think most people know what's going to be in their obituary, but I do.
I'm fairly certain when I die that the obituary will say, 'Author of 'Angels in America' dies.' Unless I'm completely forgotten, and then it won't say anything at all.
I always wondered what hearing one's own obituary might sound like, and I sort of feel like I may have just heard part of it at least.
Anyone who has to write an obituary for me one day will probably say, 'She did absolute depths of agony really well.' I'm not, however, an unhappy person.
I never wanted to see anybody die, but there are a few obituary notices I have read with pleasure.
I wake up every morning at nine and grab for the morning paper. Then I look at the obituary page. If my name is not on it, I get up.
When the 'Guardian' is commissioning writers to write obituary pieces about you and your career... it doesn't get much nastier than that. And you've just got to go, 'It doesn't actually matter.'
A common defense among obituary-fanciers such as myself is that the obit is not about death at all. It is about life. This is true since an article about the condition of deadness would make for turgid reading at best.
It's really sort of morbid, but she said her mother wanted to see me all her life. And when she died, she made just one request: that a picture of me be put into her casket. So somewhere in England, I'm in a casket.
I've spent a lot of words on my own mortality.
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